


False Idol

by PailetteHazel



Series: Chronicles of a Hopeful Few [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Childhood Memories, Gelyn is still an asshole though, Gen, Murder (mentioned), People aren't born evil, Running Away, implied emotional abuse, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PailetteHazel/pseuds/PailetteHazel
Summary: She still didn’t know what convinced her to look behind her. A gut feeling maybe. It hadn’t mattered anyway. The only thing she saw was a blue tunic, the glint of a blade and then, her hair, falling slowly to the ground. Blue, dark blue and silver, the colors of Cain’s family branch. Gelyn.A few "screenshots" from Delearys' evolving relationship with her cousin Gelyn of Aderyn.
Relationships: Delearys of Aderyn & Aven, Delearys of Aderyn & Faerryn Stamen Limu, Delearys of Aderyn & Gelyn of Aderyn, Delearys of Aderyn & Jonathan Santa, Delearys of Aderyn & Machelle Rowena Renay, Delearys of Aderyn & Sal Devon Archibald Van Dolion of Musicals
Series: Chronicles of a Hopeful Few [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631809
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. The Child and the Idol

It was a sunny afternoon, and the sunlight filtered through the green foliage outside into the big training room of the Aderyn palace. For a moment, the streams of light were cut and with a sharp sound, a dagger planted itself into the wooden target. The success brought a small grin on the one who had thrown the weapon: a young elf with long platinum blonde hair, dressed in a blue tunic. 

A second dagger was thrown, and once again hit the target. The elf walked towards it to check his results. He let out a satisfied hum, tugged the daggers out and returned to his original position to resume his practice.

“Gelyn!! You’re here!” The elf let out a soft groan. He lowered the dagger he was about to throw and turned to the side of the training room. There, in the door opening which led back to the palace, stood a small child. She was wearing a simple green dress, and her bright red hair flowed after her as she ran up to him. “Delearys.” Gelyn deadpanned. “Didn’t you have to do some assignment for Sister Malaika?” He regretfully glanced towards the target, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to continue throwing daggers with the small heir running around. 

“I had already finished.” The girl said proudly. “Sister Malaika said I did really well.” “Of course she did.” Gelyn muttered. Then Delearys glanced at the dagger in her cousin’s hand, and gasped. “Were you practicing with that?” “Uh- yeah. I was.” Gelyn twirled the dagger in his hand. By El Roé, how did uncle Adeilin and aunt Janeirys ever think that they could hide that their offspring wasn’t a full blood elf? Not only was her hair bright red and her ears smaller, even a blind person could guess that this curious and rowdy behavior was much more fitting of a common human. And this would rule Aderyn at some point? _Gross._

“Can you teach me?” The high-pitch voice sounded. “What?” “The daggers! Can you teach me how to throw them?” Delearys’ big green eyes almost seemed to sparkle with excitement. Gelyn frowned. “Those are weapons, Delearys. They’re really sharp and..” He glanced at the blade in his hands, and back to his small, fragile yet boisterous cousin.

“You know what,” He said, lowering himself onto a crouch so he was on the same height as her. “If I teach you, do you promise to leave me alone after?” “I do!” Delearys said starry-eyed, and she reached for the dagger. “Ouch!” “Yep. That’s the sharp side. You’re learning already.” Gelyn said with a small grin.


	2. The Paladin and the Representative

This particular morning in Newspring seemed to be like any other. Delearys had just finished training: a habit she had developed during her training in the Abbey. She liked it, being alone and undisturbed. The paladin opened the wooden door to her room. Yael still had not returned, and his bed was untouched: the monk had gone out on a mission with his own group a few days ago. Delearys put her sword back in the corner and wondered when Oak would have a new assignment for her own group. 

Suddenly she noticed something laying on her own bed: a letter? For her? She never got letters. With a slight nervousness she took and opened it. The handwriting was strangely familiar, like hearing a song that you remember from long ago. “I’m in Newsprings at the moment..” it read. “And I would love to visit and see you again. Your cousin, Gelyn of Aderyn.” 

As she read that name, nervous excitement began to curl in Delearys’ stomach. In her head, she counted back the years: fifteen years since she had last seen the elf. She couldn’t help herself but show a little smile: both of them, far away from Aderyn and the family. She could show him the guild, show him the friends she had made and the good she had brought into the world as a paladin. 

Delearys wondered what he had been doing all those years- traveling around? Maybe he wanted to join the Guild too. She folded the letter carefully and put it on her shelf, next to the bible.

\-----  
The sheriff of Newsprings had been murdered. Delearys, still in her training gear, stormed out of Oak’s office to make sure the Guild went on lockdown. Why did something like this have to happen just when Gelyn was going to visit? 

The paladin shot a quick glance towards Faerryn and Machelle, who were following closely behind her. “We need to close the building off.” Delearys ordered, hoping her nerves weren’t too noticeable. Someone had to take charge of the investigation and solve it as soon as possible. “And uuh, gather everyone in the building in one room.” Mac nodded quickly. The poor elven girl had only recently joined the guild. 

Before she or Faerryn could reply however, someone dashed past them and up the stairs towards the training room. Someone dressed in dark clothes and still, in handcuffs. Delearys sighed. Nothing would stop the boisterous rogue, she only hoped it would turn out right for him: something like this murder could easily be pinned on the nocturnal half-elf with his connections everywhere in the city. 

Delearys then turned to Faerryn. “I think the Main Hall would be the best place to gather everyone. Could you go check the rooms? And Machelle, please go look if there’s someone in the kitchen.”  
The paladin herself walked up to the grand wooden doors and with some effort, closed them shut. She took a moment to breathe. Whoever the murderer was, they were still inside. 

At the moment Delearys walked into the Main Hall however, she froze in her tracks. She noticed that Brooke, head of the guild together with Oak Owen, was talking to a stranger. But not just any stranger. He was wearing a blue-and-silver tunic, and was displaying the Eye of El Roé proudly on his chest. But the most noticeable were the familiar blonde strands of hair, which only reached his shoulders. Gelyn had arrived the Guild, but far from how Delearys had expected him to be. Something was clearly wrong. 

“Delearys! Can you believe it?” The paladin flinched as Jonathan Santa entered the Main Hall behind her. Usually, she would be glad to hear the loud voice of the dwarven barbarian, but now she wished she could sink through the floor. She tried to hush her old friend with a gesture, but it was already too late. 

Gelyn looked up, and noticed his cousin. Delearys managed to get a small smile on her face, and raised her hand to greet him. “Hey, I’m glad that you-” “What are you wearing?” Gelyn interrupted her, and looked her up and down with disdain in his voice. Delearys looked at herself: she had not yet gotten the chance to change yet, and she was still wearing her training attire. “Oh, this is just-” “You look terrible. Please, change into something more suited for someone of your status.”

Delearys was at a loss for words. For a moment, she was no longer that proud paladin who had slain dragons and threatened ghosts. No, she was back to being a little girl, back home, scolded for being too dirty, too unladylike, too much. Her questions were stuck in her throat and her mind screamed at her to obey before things got worse. And so she turned around and did.


	3. The Runaway and the Renegade

“Aven, could I please have the picture?” Delearys had noticed the slip of paper fall from her cousin’s robes, and the curious lavender tiefling had been the first to take it up. But he was quick to give it to the paladin. Delearys recognized a younger Gelyn, already with cut hair, surrounded by a diverse group of people. It must have been taken not too long after he left Aderyn. Friends? She looked up, and around the small group of guild members who had come together to defeat the floating sword. “You guys didn’t see anything.” She quickly put the picture away and walked back to into her room. 

Gelyn had never been the most open type, but it seemed that he was hiding even more. His hair was cut short in opposition, but he acted as a part of the Aderyn family again, wearing their colors and the symbol of faith. He hadn’t been glad to see his cousin, but instead tried to convince her to return back home with him. They needed to talk.

At that moment, Gelyn entered the room as well, seeming slightly irritated. His glance falls upon the picture in his cousins’ hands, and his eyes widen with regonision. “How did you get that?” “It fell from your tunic.” Delearys said, holding it out. “Nobody saw.” She added the lie quickly as Gelyn snatched it away, as if it was precious. He looked at it for a moment, with an unreadable expression, then sighed. “I guess you want to know what this is, huh.”

Delearys remained silent, but nodded. Gelyn groaned and sat down on Yael’s bed. “The people you saw on that picture- We were adventurers, together.” “Adventurers, like me and my friends.” Delearys repeated as she sat down as well, a hint of surprise in her voice. “Kind of.” Her cousin mutters.

The paladin notices her cousin fitgets a bit, as if ashamed for his past. “Easily one of the most foolish things I’ve ever done, really. ” “What do you mean?” Gelyn looked up at his cousin again. “I told you to leave your ‘friends’ behind here and come back home, and I stand by it. Only bad things are going to happen if you stay here.” 

Delearys leans back on her bed a bit, and Gelyn seems to notice her hesistance. “Speaking from experience, Delearys. One day, at a moment you least expect it, one of your friends will stab you in the back and leave you in the dirt. Disappearing on you when you need them the most.”

Gelyn shaked his head, and his voice lowered to not much more than a whisper. “Two years in some fucking shithole prison. And guess what the family did when they discovered this.. this scandal?” He spat out the words bitterly. “Bailed me out of there. But not so I could go free, no...Another fucking year in Gideon’s gaol.”  
Delearys was silent again, but now for an entirely different reason. “Gelyn, I..I’m sorry to hear that, I-” “Spare me your pity.” Gelyn straightened his back, sighed and stood up, avoiding eye contact. “Do you know when we’ll be able to leave here?”

“After the investigation, I’m certain.” The paladin said, still sitting on her bed. “The murderer has to be found.” She balled her fists anxiously, grabbing the fabric of her sheets. “And then, I..I’ll come with you.”


	4. The Exile and the Convictor

The ground thundered as the hooves of two horses ran over it. Delearys clung so tightly to the reins that her knuckles turned white, and the road ahead was blurry due to the tears that wouldn’t stop running down her cheeks. Later, she would be surprised how calm she seemed: there was only one thought in her mind. Get Out. She could feel the cold wind in her neck, and Benyamin’s sword dangling at her side, but didn’t… notice it. Didn’t think about what it meant. She just went faster. Faster. Out. 

Every time she blinked, she could swear she was back there again, back in her father’s old study room, back in the red velvet chair that was somehow not time-worn yet. Delearys could almost feel the movement next to her, of a tall half-elf rising up and slamming his hands on the bureau. His long hair following the shift.

Her words had felt frozen in her throat. Funny. In the past, she had always been scolded for talking too much, being too loud, asking too many questions. But back there, there was nothing she could say. 

And then.. She still didn’t know what convinced her to look behind her. A gut feeling maybe. It hadn’t mattered anyway. The only thing she saw was a blue tunic, the glint of a blade and then, her hair, falling slowly to the ground. Blue, dark blue and silver, the colors of Cain’s family branch. Gelyn. 

_Get Out. Get Out. As fast as you can. Get Out._

Delearys should have seen this coming. Could she have? It seemed to go well, even with her and Sal sticking out amongst the noble family like dogs in a lion’s den. Had they noticed her lack of manners? Had they noticed the act she played with the bard? The sneaking out and coming back drunk? The conversations that might have been heard by the servants? How could she been have so naive to think she could’ve let her guard down. 

Gelyn of Aderyn. Hidden in the shadows of the study. Once renegade himself, but now a ruthless executioner. He knew what it meant: of course he did, his hair had been cut too. He had payed dearly for it. And yet.. No sign of regret or empathy. 

_Mene, tekel, upharsin._

The familiar words from the bible of El Roé burned in her mind. 

_Numbered, weighted and found to be inadequate._

Numbered, like her days in Aderyn. Weighted against the standards and expectations of the family. Found inadequate and cut off.


End file.
